


Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

by Cosmo_is_Beink_Melon



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Accidental Love Confessions, But in charming way, But with a Jack flair, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Jack Being an Asshole, M/M, Mentions of exhibitionism, Possessive Jack, Sweaters, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmo_is_Beink_Melon/pseuds/Cosmo_is_Beink_Melon
Summary: Jack wants Rhys to wear his sweater forreasons.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 246





	Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [See_you_space_jackass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/See_you_space_jackass/gifts).



> This one time, See_you_space_jackass was having a bad day. Well, that couldn't stand! So what makes all bad days better? Sweater Rhack! <3
> 
> Title from The Neighbourhood's _Sweater Weather_.

Rhys looks up when he hears the female Hyperion A.I. greet Jack.

_ Good evening, Jack, welc— _

“You here, Kitten?” Jack calls out, muting the greeting. He never lets the woman finish. “Put on pants, we’re going out.”

Rhys blinks gritty eyes. He’s been on the ECHOnet for the last hour, reading about the Maliwan acquisition of a couple of smaller, no-name arms manufacturers operating out of Hieronymous. Analysts don’t seem overly concerned yet, but Rhys has an uneasy feeling in his gut about this family-run corporation. Maliwan has staked a niche claim with their elemental weapons, and it’s turned them a steady profit, but they operate by the good graces of the Hyperion Corporation. Handsome Jack  _ can _ and  _ will _ crush them if they begin to encroach. And the deal on Hieronymous could be seen as encroachment.

Jack whistles softly and snaps his fingers. “Rhysie? You with me?”

Rhys frowns at that. “I’m not a dog, Jack. And yeah, I was just reading about—”

“Tell me over dinner,” Jack says, and his smile is gregarious. “I’m taking you out tonight. Bought out that place on the thirty-first floor for the evening. That fancy-ass sushi joint you like so much.”

He means Mr. Sushi. It’s  _ Jack’s _ favorite. But Rhys likes it too.

“You bought it out?” Rhys asks suspiciously. There’s a few spots of blood on Jack’s cheek. Rhys frowns and slowly stands, making his way to Jack. He rubs the blood off his lover’s face with the heel of his palm.

Jack looks down at the smear on Rhys’ hand. “It isn’t mine.”

“It’s  _ never _ yours,” Rhys says disapprovingly. “I’m asking, did you kill everyone who had a reservation tonight?”

“C’mon, Kiddo, there’d be gallons of blood if I’d done that. It’s a popular joint!” Seeing Rhys’ frown, he presses on. “The blood’s from something else, promise. Last minute business I needed to handle. Don’t worry. They’re not  _ dead _ . You made it  _ real damn clear _ : no killing, so I’ve—”

“Just maimed someone...?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “A broken nose. No big.” 

He catches Rhys around the waist and pulls him in close, his voice dropping to a timbre that twists Rhys’ guts into a bow. God, the sound of Jack’s voice… He shivers when Jack leans in to ghost his lips along Rhys’ neck, tracing the pattern of his tattoo. “This is me being  _ good _ . Promise. I’m your  _ hero _ , baby.”

Rhys hums and closes his eyes as Jack kisses at the junction between neck and shoulder. Jack’s got a roadmap of all the sweet spots on Rhys’ body, having spent countless hours plotting them out. He’s quite the thorough cartographer. He always knows exactly how to make Rhys melt. And so Rhys  _ melts _ . “You sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?” Rhys groans and Jack nips his skin playfully.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Jack grinning triumphantly.

“Certain. Go get dressed. Wear those slacks I like and...grab my sweater.”

“You’re gonna change?” Rhys asks, falling back and immediately missing the warmth of Jack’s arms. He  _ is  _ hungry, and sushi always sounds good, but so does pulling Jack down into their stupidly large bed and making love to him until they’re both too blissed out to think straight.

“Nah, Pumpkin, sweater’s for you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love seein’ you in it and I love  _ other people _ seeing you in it.” As Rhys tosses him a look over his shoulder, Jack pops him on the ass with smug, entitled grin. “People see that sweater, they know it’s mine, then they know—sure as shit—that  _ you’re _ mine.”

Rhys rolls his eyes as he walks to the bedroom. Jack follows him, presumably to watch him get undressed.

“Everyone already knows I’m yours, Jack. You sent an ECHOcast to the whole of Helios thirty minutes after you first got me in bed.”

“You’ve gotta stake your claim quick, baby. Think I gave the sharks half a second to make a move on Hyperion after Tassiter? Nope. But listen, sweetcheeks, I’d have announced you were mine in the first minute post-orgasm, ’cept you looked so damn sweet—all sex-drunk and spent—I just couldn’t  _ bear _ to let you go.”

“I guess I’m lucky you didn’t attach a holo to the broadcast.”

“There’s still time for that, y’know.”

As Rhys strips down to his Hyperion-issued boxers, he  _ maybe _ lingers a little extra-long, digging out the outfit Jack requested.  _ Maybe _ stretches in ways he knows Jack likes.  _ Maybe _ glances coyly over his shoulder. The dark look in Jack’s eyes makes his stomach twist.

“You sure you want me dressed?” Rhys asks again, and likes it  _ tremendously _ when Jack’s tongue darts out to moisten his lips. Jack groans low and then makes a  _ tsk _ ing noise. Rhys would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy his power to rattle the otherwise unflappable Hyperion CEO. He loves that he’s the only one who can do it.

“...Yes. Goddammit.  _ Yes _ , you tempting minx. Bought out the restaurant, remember? Want to show you off.”

Something suddenly occurs to Rhys and he pauses in the middle of buttoning up the fly on his purple pin-striped slacks, the ones Jack says make his ass look ‘delicious.’

“Wait. If you want to  _ show me off _ , but you bought out the restaurant—”

“Gonna parade you through the Hub of Heroism on the way there and back,” Jack explains. “Plus, people need to see their king every once in a while.”

Rhys chuckles and pulls the sweater on over his head. It’s too big for him and slides, just a little at the shoulder, revealing a hint of his blue tattoo. He knows he looks ridiculous, but Jack doesn’t seem to mind. No, scratch that. Jack seems to  _ enjoy _ . He snuggles into the sweater for a moment and surreptitiously sniffs the collar. He knows it’s clean, but he likes to think Jack’s scent remains. When he looks up, he catches Jack’s knowing smile and he flushes.

God, Jack’s always had the power to make him flush.

“And will we wave to the gathered citizens from atop Butt Stallion?”

“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous,” Jack says and pushes himself away from the doorframe, striding into the room and grabbing Rhys. He pulls him close and kisses him. At first it’s a whisper-light press of lips, but soon it becomes deeper, hungrier, more seeking. More possessive. “You look so goddamn good in Hyperion yellow, babe,” Jack moans into Rhys’ mouth. “We’ll keep the sweater on when I bend you over the table before the main course. How’s that sound?”

For a second, Rhys is too lost—in the feel of Jack’s hands on him, the pressure of his lips, the taste of his tongue—to register what’s been said and then he blinks and his eyes fly open. He pulls back, his face gone crimson. 

“You...you bought out the restaurant just so we could—?”

“Of course, dummy,” Jack says with a wicked grin that tells Rhys, even if he argues, Jack’s going to end up seducing the fight right out of him. “We’re gonna screw like skags.”

“God, why do I love you?”

Suddenly they freeze, arms wrapped around each other, bodies pressed close, startled mismatched eyes locked-on startled mismatched eyes. 

“I…” Rhys feels his blood run cold. He just… Words.  _ Those words.  _ He’s thought them, of course. A lot, even. But he never meant to just  _ put them out there _ like that. “I...I didn’t mean…”

“Oh no?” Jack asks slowly, and his voice holds a note Rhys has never heard before. It’s raw and almost...broken. Jack searches Rhys’ face desperately. “You didn’t mean it?”

Rhys swallows hard, stammering, “I mean...I... _ yes _ ...I meant it...But I didn’t mean to say it...like...uh... _ that _ .”

“You  _ love _ me,” Jack says, as if testing out the weight of the words. And then a wicked grin curls his lips as he growls in triumph, “You love me!”

Rhys yelps as Jack suddenly hoists him straight off the ground and throws him over his shoulder like he’s the world’s longest sack of potatoes.

“Jack! What’re you—?”

“New plan!” Jack crows, jubilant. “I’m gonna fuck you at  _ least _ twice, and once this sweater reeks of sex,  _ then _ we’ll go to dinner.”

“Jack—that’s—!” 

He makes it the few steps over to the bed and tosses Rhys down before leaping playfully on top of him.

“Go ahead, just try and tell me ‘no,’ Rhysie. Betcha won’t. You  _ love  _ me,” Jack reminds him, fumbling with the pants Rhys just put on. “You can’t resist me.”

“Ugh…” Rhys says, wriggling free of his pants as Jack attacks his thighs with teeth and tongue. “You don’t have to sound so… proud of yourself. Are you at least going to say it back?”

Jack pauses, looking up from between Rhys’ legs. Rhys swallows, hoping he hasn’t misread the situation, hoping Jack…

“Baby, I love you with everything in me.” Rhys pushes himself up on his elbows and studies Jack’s face, so unusually earnest. His brows are knit, jaw set, eyes heavy. There’s no knowing smirk, no wicked smile, just the look of a man delivering a personal truth. “Guess you could say that I love you more than I love...well... _ me _ .” Coming from anyone else, that might have been comical, but the way Jack lets the words drop, Rhys feels like he’s been punched.

And all he can say in reply is, “Oh.” And then after another long moment, he collapses back on the mattress and hiding his beaming smile in the crook of his arm. Finally, Rhys says, “Okay, Jack, let’s make this sweater smell like sex.”

He feels Jack growl in agreement.

<<< >>>

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback makes Cosmo blush and swoon! \\(^///^)/ Please consider telling me what you think!


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